Surviving Life
by Minish Link
Summary: Harry becomes a drunk after defeating Voldemort in the Final Battle. Ginny comes home from her healer schooling in France. How will the two of them cope with life?


**Chapter One**

"Fuck it." Harry reached over and downed another shot of firewhiskey. He had already decided this was going to be a long night.

"Damn it, mate. You're gonna lose," Ron slurred, taking his shot of firewhiskey.

The two best friends had been at the bar since around eight, it was now well past eleven. They had decided to have a little drinking game and were currently taking shots of firewhiskey back and forth. Harry's head was pounding and he felt like he would vomit if he drank anymore, but he wouldn't let Ron show him up. He grabbed two shot glasses in front of him, downing them both one after the other. Ron looked a little hesitant to follow this move, he wasn't feeling too hot himself, either. A large smirk appeared on Harry's face as he looked at his drunken mess of a friend.

"Call it even?" he asked Ron, hoping to God he wouldn't have to drink another shot.

Ron nodded, looking nauseous. "I should probably get back home. Hermione will be waiting...," he said finally.

"Alright. G'night," Harry said, waving goodbye. Suddenly he felt like having another drink. No, he _needed _another drink. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for Ron and Hermione, but he couldn't help being jealous. They were happily married, while Harry was stuck with one night stands. As soon as Ron left the pub, Harry took at seat at the bar and gulped down a shot of firewhiskey. He didn't feel the burning in his throat, only a great feeling of satisfaction. The wonderful feeling of getting something that you've been craving. Harry seemed to forget about all the alcohol he had just consumed with Ron, and went on drinking plenteously.

Sometime during the night Harry had blacked out at the bar. The bartender shook him gently. "Hey, Potter," he said.

Harry lifted his aching head from the bar table. "Yes?" he replied, wiping some drool from his lip.

"Shouldn't you be getting home? I think you've had enough for one night," the man said, wiping down the table.

"Had enough? Yeah, maybe you're right." In fact, Harry knew the man was right. Had enough was quite an understatement. Normally the bartender would've have cut a person off for the night after drinking even half of what Harry had, but the famous Harry Potter got special treatment. The people figured he had earned it. Afterall, killing the dark lord had been no humble task.

Gathering up his coat, Harry apparated back to his flat.

Early the next morning, Harry awoke to an owl attacking his window. _The Daily Prophet_, he thought tiredly. Sickness hit him the moment he stood up, forcing him to run to the bathroom and throw up into the toilet. Once his nausea passed, Harry drank a hangover potion and walked over to the window with the annoying owl pecking at it vigorously. He dropped some coins into the owl's sack and took the paper, flipping it open. _A few short mentions of me. Nothing too bad...,_ he thought, setting the paper aside.

Two simultaneous knockings echoed in the house, one from the front door and one from the window. Harry ignored the owl, which he recognized as Pig, and went to the front door, jerking it open. He was shocked to see the only female sibling in the Weasley family. Ginny Weasley was standing in front of him and he found himself speechless. She looked beautiful. More beautiful than he had remembered. Although, it had been almost five years since he had last seen her; right before she moved off to France.

"Harry?" she sounded uncertain.

He cleared his throat. "Erm, yes?"

"You look... different," she said, looking embarrassed.

Harry looked down at himself, for the first time realizing that he was in nothing but his boxers. He wasn't doing much with his life at the moment (besides getting drunk and shagging a new girl every night) but he still worked out regularly and was rewarded with a muscular build.

"Yeah, you do too. Come inside," he said, beckoning for her to come in. He quickly got dressed and looked over at Ginny who was sitting on the edge of his unmade bed.

"So, you're back?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"For good?"

"Yeah. I just finished my training in France. As of now, I'm a certified Healer," Ginny replied.

"That's," he stopped and looked over at Pig, still pecking at the window, "Hold on a minute." Harry opened the window and let Pig in, taking a letter from the owl, before it flew off again. He unrolled the parchment and began reading:

_Dear Harry,_

_Sorry I haven't been writing regularly; it's been busy at the ministry, lately. Well, I'll get right to the point: we (Ron and I, that is) want you to come over for dinner tonight. Ginny just arrived back in town and she will be over, too. She said she might be stopping by your house sometime today. _

_P.S. We really want you to come._

_Love, _

_Hermione_

"What's that all about, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Just a letter from Hermione... inviting me to dinner tonight."

"Oh, right. I was invited, too," she said.

"Yeah. Is there a particular reason you came over?" Harry asked.

This time Ginny didn't make a response, she only threw her arms around Harry and held him tightly. Harry stiffened at first, but then allowed her to hug him, even hugging her back a bit. Once she released him, Ginny wiped a few tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I've... I've missed you, Harry," she said.

"I've missed you, too," Harry said truthfully. He was feeling a bit awkward, it had been years since he'd last seen her. And they hadn't exactly parted on friendly terms. In fact, he suspected he was the real reason Ginny left the country and went to France. Memories of his last time seeing Ginny flooded into his mind.

_Flashback_

_Harry sat at the edge of his bed at the burrow, panting lightly. He had just woken from a nightmare, the same as always. It was of the death of Voldemort, which had occured only a few short months previous. Harry had found himself unable to talk to anyone about how he felt. When they asked him to talk, he would tell them to leave him alone. Not even Ron or Hermione were able to get through to him. Reality was feeling very surreal to Harry, at the present. Voldemort was finally dead, and he had murdered him. Screams of the death eaters he had murdered still haunted his dreams. _

_"Harry? Are you awake?" _

_He jumped, coming out of his stupor. "Yes," he muttered, his voice rough. He wasn't even sure who had been speaking to him, nor did he care, he only continued to stare at the floor. He felt a soft hand on his face. Ginny. Harry had been purposely avoiding her, since he defeated Voldemort._

_"Harry, you look sick. Did you have another nightmare?" she said softly, sitting down next to him._

_"Yes."_

_"Come on, Harry, talk to me."_

_"No," he said coldly._

_"Fine," Ginny said in a hurt voice, getting up and leaving._

_The next morning, Harry reduced his trunk to pocket size and stashed it in his robes. He mounted his broom and rose slowly into the sky, looking back at the burrow over his shoulder, before speeding up and flying off into the clouds._

_End Flashback_

"Ginny," he said softly.

"Yes?" she answered.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Harry. I forgive you," Ginny started, looking at her watch, "Oh, damn. I've got to go. I'll see you tonight at dinner?"

"I guess so," replied Harry, watching Ginny leave his house. Sighing, he let himself fall backwards onto his bed.


End file.
